


Feral

by redcandle17



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Gang Rape, Gangbang, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 22:59:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8032351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: Max suffers the consequences of his attempted escape from the Citadel.





	Feral

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilverDolphin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverDolphin/gifts).



He runs and runs, but there’s an obstacle at every turn. And then there’s nothing. Nothing but open air. He almost falls, almost wants to fall, but he saves himself, despite himself. Sometimes he thinks of letting himself die, thinks it would silence the accusatory voices of the dead. But inevitably comes the fear that dying will mean facing those he failed to save, that there won’t be anywhere to run to flee them.

When the voices of the dead quiet, he becomes aware of the exhilarated shouts of the living. There’s nothing joyous about it. It’s the braying of predators who’ve successfully brought down prey. And he’s the prey. He becomes aware of the suffocating weight of half a dozen bodies piled on top of him.

“Got ‘im!”

“Stupid feral almost ran right off the cliff.”

“Real high octane guzzoline in his veins. I want a top-up from him.”

Shackles are put back on each of his limbs and a metal grate of some sort is shoved over his face and locked in place. 

The frenzied energy of the pack is almost tangible, almost something you can feel on the air or smell, like you could feel or smell an impending thunderstorm long ago before the rain stopped and the oceans dried up. And beneath that, of course, is the very real musk of an unknown multitude of men. 

He feels his trousers being yanked down and then there’s something poking at his asshole. He yelps as it’s forced into him. It feels like a hot knife stabbing him in the gut. He know what it is, of course, but he delays naming it for as long as he can. 

He used to be a cop. He used to be a husband and a father. He was never the kind of guy this sort of thing happened to. But that was another world, back when there _was_ a world, not just the wreckage of one. Though if he’s truthful, it could have happened to anybody, even back then. But not him. He struggles, but it’s futile. 

He’s helpless to protect himself, he can’t stop them as they take turns raping him. At some point, one of them reaches under him and roughly fondles him. 

“Soft,” a laughing voice announces. “What’s the matter, you don’t like me?”

A theatrical kiss is planted on his ear, and he jerks his head just in time to smash the nose of the man whose cock is currently buried in his ass. He hears a snarled curse, and a vicious punch is delivered to his kidneys, and the rapist’s thrusts become even more brutal. 

He doesn’t try to keep count of how many of them rape him. He’s surprised when he realizes it’s over, that there’s not another one taunting him about how loose and sloppy he is. They must have gotten bored and wandered away once they were done. More than anything, more than escaping or getting to safety, more than putting a bullet into the brain of each bastard who’d raped him, he wants to cleanse himself of their filth.

 _The water._ That flooded corridor he’d ran through, the water might be dirty and greasy, but it would wash away their semen and their sweat. It would wash their smell out of his nose if he had to half-drown himself.

He forces his bruised, aching body to rise, but when he tries to take a step forward, he falls flat on his face. The chain connecting his ankle shackles is too short. 

A hoarse cackle sounds within the cavern.

He looks up to see an emaciated man crouched in a cage raised up high and dangling from the ceiling. “Not too smart, are you, mate? There’s no running and no fighting back, you’ll only inflame the War Boys and get yourself gangbanged good and hard again.”

He doesn’t have the words or the energy to respond fully, so he just makes an animal sound of fury and defiance. 

“High octane universal donor,” the caged man says. “They’ll keep you alive forever if you don’t provoke them.”

That possibility is the second most terrifying fate he can think of. He thrashes and writhes anew, though he know it’s futile. Whatever his fate, he won’t accept it docilely.


End file.
